Insomnia

                                      Insomnia

You long to give into the physical exhaustion

And slip into peaceful slumber,

But words fill the silence.

Buzzing round your weary brain like flies,

Relentless til you put pen to page and commemorate them.

The low rumbling of an empty stomach

Commences the dawn chorus a few

Hours too early.

You close your eyes and sentences, stanzas,

Whole rhymes form of their own accord.

You wish you could switch them off,

Save them for a more godly hour

But it all comes with the territory.

Unfortunately.